Dolores scowls as they’re bound up again. “Gah… this is no good for my back either…” she protests, which of course just prompts a derisive smirk from Axel.

After everyone has left but Rex, he stands guard, and Dolores glares at him.

“What the hell are you staring at?” Rex demands.

Dolores replies, “Robbing the bank is bad enough but you’ve gone and made this much worse on yourself because you had to go and hurt people.”

Rex scoffs. “People get hurt sometimes. Who cares?”

Dolores continues, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll let someone tend to that poor girl. You better hope and pray she doesn’t die. If that happens, you know what they call that? Felony murder. That’s murder in the first degree. And that’s if you even get out of here alive, because if I get half a chance, believe you me I’ll take care of you myself. And they’ll call that one self-defense.”

Rex rolls his eyes. “You’re not going to do shit grandma.”

Dolores scowls. “Maybe. Maybe not. Probably better for you if I do, though. At least it’s quick and clean. No, if the cops get you, then it’s a long drawn out process, a trial you’re going to lose, a bunch of appeals you’re also going to lose, all for nothing. No, all you’ll have is sitting in your cell waiting for the end of your miserable life. And your poor family… think about how sad they’re going to be, how much stress it’s going to be on them, even though you’re a piece of garbage. And all the shame they have to suffer for being associated with such a piece of garbage like you. And for what? Maybe the day will finally come when you get put down like a rabid dog, but maybe not… times are changing and that isn’t done so much any more. So more likely you’ll just rot in prison until you’re my age, and die alone and forgotten in some sad dark corner. And you’ll have your whole sad life to regret this moment right now when you could’ve tried to help yourself and you didn’t.”

Rex just scoffs again and rolls his eyes. But this time there is a noticeable pause before he does so.

Malcolm rolled his eyes as Dolores spoke and gave Rex an exasperated look.

“Looks like she’s underestimated you, just like the rest of them.” He gestured his head backward, knocking Dolores’ hat slightly askew. “She must have been talking to that Bambi girl you boys brought along. She certainly has her opinions about you.”

Rex snarled at Malcolm in disgust, “Shut up.”

“Yeah,” said Malcolm in a low voice, paying no attention to Rex’s directive, “when we were back there by the vaults she told me you’re the idiot of the group. They only brought you along as the scapegoat if this all goes down. What was it she said…” he paused as if trying to remember, “oh yeah, he’s not the smart one or the skilled one, he’s the expendable one.” He looked back towards the vaults.

“I guess that’s why you’re out here with the police closing in and they’re all out the back where no one can see them.”

Rex turned and pressed the barrel of his gun against Malcolm’s forehead, “I said, shut up.”

“Alright, alright,” said Malcolm trying to maintain clam composure with the cold, hard steel pressing hard against his head, “I just thought if I were you I’d want to know what they were saying, I wouldn’t take that shit from them.” He closed his eyes and his mouth and held his breath, he didn’t open his eyes again until he heard Rex’s footsteps move away to the next group of hostages.

Bass was down to 50% vision without his glasses, but his hearing was still at 100%. He could hear Dolores giving Rex one hell of a ticking off. And he could hear the terrified little girl crying next to him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered. “The one with the pigtails. Yeah, you. What’s your name?”

The girl, at the urging of her father, stopped her barely-suppressed whimpers long enough to whisper back. “Jillian.”

“Hey. I’m Bass. Can you help me?”

A pause. “How? I’m tied up.” Her voice quavered towards the end.

“Me too.” Bass scootched abut an inch closer, careful not to yank Janet along with their interlinked cuffs. “I lost my glasses, so I can’t see. Can you find something for me?”

“Your glasses landed near me and my daddy outside. But I don’t know where it is anymore. And then my daddy got shot…”

“No,” Bass paused. “No, I mean- I think your daddy will be fine. But there’s nothing we can do now so, I want to play a game. But we have to be very quiet.”

He could sense that he caught Jillian’s interest, so he pushed on.

“It’s a game where we cannot move from where we are now, but we find things with our eyes from where we are sitting. Okay?”

Another pause. “Okay.”

“Okay. Can you find… a fridge?” Bass felt Janet shift against his back, squirming into a comfortable position.

“It’s over there,” came Jillian’s reply after a few seconds.

“Nice. Is it next to a sink?”

“Umm. I can’t see without standing up.”

“Don’t stand up,” Bass and the girl’s dad said simultaneously.

“Daddy, my arms hurt.”

Jasmine watches Bass calm the girl down. She’s impressed, it’s a trick parents use to calm kids down. She wonders if he is a father himself, she wants to ask but perhaps its not the best time.

When Jillian tried to stand up, she got pulled back down as her hands were tied to her father. Her arms start hurting and she starts letting out a soft cry.

Jasmine whispers to Boscoe, ‘Sorry but bear with me.’

She tries to get up and falls down too. ‘Ouch.’ Jillian stops her crying and watches Jasmine.

Jasmine repeats the move a couple times, all ending with her getting hurt. Jillian starts laughing slightly.

Boscoe whispers. ‘Why do you keep doing that?’

“Apparently, kids find it funny when adults hurt themselves. You should see my kid watching Tom and Jerry.”

Jillian caught the last bit of Jasmine’s sentence and her interest was at peak.

“Tom and Jerry, I love that cartoon.”

“Right? Me too. Is it your favorite?”

“No, my favorite is my little pony.”
Jillian gestures at her backpack which has a picture and key-chain of my little pony.

“Aw, that’s adorable. So you must really like Pinkie Pie?”

“Yes!”

Just then her father squeals in pain and Jillian is back to being worried.

Oh crap. Just as I thought we had it.

Boscoe had remained silent. He wasn’t the brightest man around, but he knew himself. Knew that if he wanted to be of any use to anyone, acting without taking time to absorb everything would just escalate the danger. That was how he got arrested to begin with–being an impatient bonehead.

Even with the steel mask in place, the man’s jaw clenched with tension, his dry throat bobbing with a gulp as Rex addressed Dolores… And he moved on. Oh, gracias a Dios (thank God)… Then he moved to the manager and further on still…

Jostling. What in the world was the woman doing? “Why do you keep doing that?” he asked, only to snap his mouth shut immediately after. Oh… Oh. The child. Of course. Boscoe nodding in understanding, though that immediately switched to a wince as the little girl whimpered in fear again.

“Daddy!”

“For fuck’s sake!” Rex roared, stomping up to Jillian with fire in his eyes. He jammed the barrel into her face, steel just inches away from biting skin. “One more time! Holler one more time and I’ll shut you up for good.”

Rather than quieting, Jillian’s cries doubled with horror, tears rolling down her face.

Rex’s eye twitched. Then his trigger finger did the same–

“Wait!” Rushed. Firm. But trembling with an anxiety that threatened to drown Boscoe on the spot. He arched his head in Rex’s direction. “It’s not worth it, man.”

Huffing, Rex loomed over Boscoe and grumbled, “You itching to die first? Is that it?”

“Are you?” Boscoe shot back, something bitter quirking the corner of his lips. “Listen, I get it. Everyone’s testing you, analyzing you like they understand how you think, like you’re inferior for not following the law. Makes you so pissed that you just want to shut them up.”

Rex’s glare never lifted but his grip on the gun, ever so slightly, loosened, his attention apparently snagged. “The hell do you know?”

“Five years under my belt. Six months of tasting fresh air so far. I’m telling you… You put lead in that kid and the police are closing in? You know what inmates hate the most.” Boscoe didn’t even have to say it.

Even in prison, everyone hated one type of person.

The scumbags who harmed kids. It was just an unspoken rule.

“The things they’d do to you while your friends walked off scotch free…” Boscoe visibly shivered and yet, his vision never veered from Rex’s. “Cuz they know it too. They’re leaving you for the picking. Hungry in that lonely little box or fighting off a touch-starved cell mate. Getting thrown into–”

Before Rex could think, the realization rolled from his lips at the same time Boscoe’s did.

“Solitary.”

A tense silence followed…

Grunting, Rex slapped on his annoyed expression once again, more so as a cloak for the crack made in his facade. “Whatever. Fucking chatty hostages, all of you.” He would’ve complained further, but then a voice traveled from beyond the staff room, calling for him.

Grimacing, Rex shot one last look at the hostages. “Not a single one of you move!” He exited the room, each step taken like the stomping of a peeved giant.

Boscoe didn’t dare sigh in relief until several seconds after he was gone. His head tilted back, unleashing a massive breath. However, his head accidentally bonked Jasmine’s and he flinched away, sheepishness filling his visage. “Ah, sorry señora,” he muttered.

With everyone bound as pairs, there was no one to help put pressure on her would, she had to get help as soon as possible because Nora noticed.

“Zara, keep your eyes open. Stay awake for me.”

Rex hears the whispers, “Shut it, over there!”

“How about you shut it and let me help her? Because even though, you didn’t shot her the blame will all go on you. You’re the weak link, I mean look at her! If she closes her eyes, she’ll bleed to death.”

Rex panics on the last line, walking left and right, and finally. “Fuck.” he rushes to Nora and Chase and unties them.

“Chase, get a hold of that cloth there and put pressure on it.” Chase rushes quickly while Nora grabs the stone white cookie jar on the top shelf on the right and a bottle of distilled water.

Nora opens the jar filled with first aid equipment, Chase stops and Nora applies water then applies antiseptic cream around the wound and then covers it up with rolled bandages.

“This will hold for now, it needs to get treated and checked on every few hours. Chase and I will make sure of that. But, if it goes sideways she’ll only have 1-2 days before..”

You see the man and woman being escorted by Rex. At first you think they’re going to be used for some task around the bank or that they too were secretly an accomplice to the robbery but as they approach the door, you realize that they are being released.

What in the hell? Why them?

Soon her thoughts were spitting out her mouth faster than she could shut herself up. She was filled with rage and kept going on and on.

“Why did you release them? Are you serious? They both were young and could’ve probably handled this. Did you bother thinking about sending out the little girl and her father? or even me? A mother whose child awaits outside those doors. Or perhaps the old lady?”

“Hey, who you calling old lady?”

Jasmine’s fit is cut short and she turns to see who interrupted her while having a dirty look on her face.

As soon as she sees Dolores, her expressions fade and she whispers an apology.

“I could still take on those idiots at my age.”

Jasmine starts to smile. “I’m sure you could.”
She was calm again but the commotion was far from over.

Dolores nods, narrowing her eyes a bit. “I could. You probably don’t believe me because I’m old. But just you wait, we’ll get our chance, and then you’ll see. Each and every one of those crooks is going to pay. Nobody messes with me and my poker night winnings.”

She looks supremely confident, even though the situation might not warrant it right now. Then again, maybe some confidence is helpful?

“Both of you shut up,” Rex barks at Dolores and Jasmine.

Maybe not.

Nora took it all in to understand what was happening.. she focused on Jasmine as to what she was saying..

Why did you release them?.. They both were young…

Nora thought to herself, They could have taken me but no, ugh She turned to look at Zara Not even the girl who is in pain. “Hang in there, Zara.”

This does not make sense, they would only keep us here if they wanted something more from us? Nora started panicking.

Eyes narrowing at Rex after the robber snapped at Jasmine and Dolores, Bass nodded in the direction of Jasmine.

“She’s right. You could have freed Jillian and her father if you wanted to free anyone.”

Now bound to Nora, Bass heard her mutter, “Hang in there, Zara.”

That’s right. He forgot about the other woman who got shot. He pointed his chin decisively at Zara.

“You could have let Zara go. The injured ones will d…” He caught himself, remembering that Jillian was listening. “…they need real help and soon. If something happens to them under your watch, the court will pin this one on you.”

He paused for effect. “Something is up. Your boss is losing control and is setting you all up for the fall.”

In the back of his mind, Bass was talking his way through the possibilities. They had only assumed that Chase and Janet were being released. What else could it be? Did they want two able-bodied prisoners for something else? Rex picked Chase because he was already freed to assist Nora with Zara. But Nora was put back into cuffs, and the connection was …. Nora worked for the bank.

“Unless you didn’t send them out to release them,” he said aloud.

“You idiots want to get another person shot?” Malcolm growled at the customers making a nuisance of themselves. “The man told you to shut up, Jesus H. Christ, you’ve seen what he’s capable of.”

Your all out of cards Mal, your guns gone, they’re in the vault and you’re stuck out here with the unwashed masses. Your best bet now is to try and keep yourself alive. A small smirk twisted one corner of his mouth, Hell, I could probably get a disability pension and a cushy retirement out of this… maybe I’m not out of cards after all.

“How much difference does it make now?” Bass shot back at Malcolm.

Between Jillian’s occasional hiccups and Zara’s uncomfortable silence, Bass was ready to give up having the inside scoop in favour of standing outside behind the police barrier with a takeaway cup of coffee while speculating impersonally about the outcome. He wanted the rush of calling in the story. Being the story was not sitting well with him.

“I’m sick of this,” He glared at Rex. “I’m the new editor for The Port Lawdi Post. I’m pretty sure our crime reporter is outside right this minute. If your boss released me, I can carry your message out to our syndicated services-“

His voice was drowned by several voices of protest. Everybody wanted to leave and most had more personal or medical reasons to do so. Bass probably wasn’t winning any new friends but under the circumstances, he had to start thinking of himself.

Unfortunately, the fresh burst of revolt didn’t sit well with their guard. Bass could see Rex’s shoulders stiffen as he turned to the group, but the robber’s expression was blurry without his glasses. He held his breath as the voices swirled around him, waiting for the situation to get from bad to worse.